Beyond the Surf
by Fluttering Phalanges
Summary: The Rebellion is lost, leaving those who were lucky enough to survive forced to run. Haymitch takes Effie with him, the two escaping deep into the mountains as the Capitol's hunt for those who betrayed them multiplies. The Mockingjay is gone. Freedom vanquished. The only option now is flight or fight. Warning: Character Death


**This is a one shot idea I had about if the Rebellion had failed. It focuses primarily on Effie and Haymitch and their relationship and developments as they attempt to survive together. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated, I would love to know your thoughts! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! -Jen**

"_From birth, man carries the weight of gravity on his shoulders. He is bolted to earth. But man has only to sink beneath the surface and he is free." -Jacques Yves Costeau _

For so long they had run, feet pounding against dry earth, lungs exploding with bursts of oxygen and dust. The branches tore at their skin, leaving thin traces of red in their wake. But they continued on, unstoppable, barreling deeper and deeper into the oblivion that soon would become their own. Fingers digging into wrists, bruises forming underneath the tight grasp. He wouldn't let go, he would never let go. The warmth against his palm, the flutters of a heartbeat pulsating underneath, she was all he had left in this world now. And for that, his energy surged, continuing on as they moved and only stopping when his companion's knees gave way beside him.

"We have to keep going," he urged, tugging at the still figure beside him. "We'll be found and killed if we don't. Dammit woman, come on!"

Effie Trinket shook her head, tears running down her scratched and soot covered face. She had been pulled from the darkness a short a time ago, made to escape when her recovery had not nearly been complete. So long she had spent in the dungeons of the Capitol, awaiting a certain death. And then, when the miracle arrived, whisking her away from the place, she naively believed to be free. The bombs soon followed, and with them, the destruction they held. Peeta. Katniss. Everyone. She hadn't even been given the chance to say farewell.

"I can't," she panted, her voice hoarse from lack of water. "No more, Haymitch. I simply cannot run anymore!"

"We don't have a choice!" Haymitch insisted, drops of sweat sliding down his temples and the brim of his nose. "Effie, we have to keep going. Not much further, I promise. We'll find somewhere safe, bunker down for the night. Just a little further. Don't do this. Don't give up. Not yet."

And thus they continued, swishing past broken shrub and overgrown weed as they carried on, even deeper into the woods. The smoke and fires were long gone, left back in the opening with the whizzing bullets and cries of distress. They were all dead now, the people. Effie had watched others fall who had been brave enough to pursue the forests. But by yet another miracle, she and Haymitch had been untouched by the weapons of the Capitol. Left in a wake that would surely become an even larger storm as time passed.

The air was cold, burning their lungs when Haymitch finally decided to halt. His knees gave way, a grunt escaping his mouth as he made contact with the earth. Effie moved beside him, a hand on his shoulder as she looked around at what their surroundings were. Trees, taller than any the former escort had ever seen, towered over them like skyscrapers. It was dark, and whether it was due to the overgrown canopy or the simple fact it was night out, she was unsure.

Thirst. Hunger. Exhaustion. All three elements found the two as they wandered slowly around the new area. It had begun to drizzle when they finally came across a stone outcrop, nearly hidden by the several large trees that had fallen over it. Haymitch nudged Effie, pointing to it. It wasn't much, far from anything either were used to, but it would have to do for the night. Crawling on hands and knees, pushing aside branches and other debris, they squeezed inside, finding it only tall enough for either to sit up in.

"Can't we build a fire?" Effie whispered, hugging herself tightly as the roar of the rain grew louder. "We'll freeze to death in conditions like this."

Haymitch merely shook his head. "The rock walls will protect us from the elements," he mumbled. "And the space is so small, our body heat will warm us eventually. We can't do anything that will cause attention to our spot. Right now, we're as good as sitting ducks."

Effie swallowed, leaning back against the cold stone. It felt surreal, all of this, as if she were watching one of the previous Hunger Games. Except, these weren't the Games and there would be no support from the Capitol in the means of sponsor gifts. No backpack of supplies. No weapons on hand. They were completely alone in this journey, only having one another to rely on. She wanted to go home, even though there was none to return to.

"We'll go to the ocean," Haymitch said suddenly, rousing Effie from a slumber she had not realized she'd fallen into. "Take a boat and escape from here."

"And go where?" She inquired, her tone of voice slipping into one she rarely used. "Haymitch, we have no idea what is out there! No one ever goes beyond the boundaries of Panem."

"Anywhere is better than here," Haymitch replied, gazing out into the bramble that shaded them. "It's our only chance at this point."

The rain had stopped by the next morning, leaving the ground a saturated messed when Haymitch and Effie finally exited their shelter. It was brighter out, the land covered by a dense white fog that seemed to envelop most of what their vision could captured. They were reduced to drinking out of what little water collected in the leaves, Effie only complaining about this circumstance twice before giving in to the task. It felt good, the cool liquid slipping down their raw throats. And the more she drank, the more Effie craved.

"Slow down," Haymitch instructed when he noticed the escort on her eighth leaf. "You'll make yourself sick."

"I'm starving," she exhaled, looking to the man in desperation. "Haymitch, we have to find some sort of food source."

"Soon," he promised. "We have to start moving though. By now, I'm sure the Capitol has already sent out troops to..." he paused, catching the look in Effie's eyes. "We can't sit around and wait here any longer. We need to keep going."

Thus began their walking. Marching on deeper and deeper into the unknown. Effie trudged behind Haymitch, her feet sloshing in the marshy ground as they continued on. She smelled of sweat and soot. Her hair, once a curly blonde, now falling in tangled clumps down her shoulders. A shell of her former self. The lavished Effie Trinket reduced to nothing more than a grungy, homeless being. But that, though terrible, was a much better fate than what could have followed.

They continued on like this for a countless time, stopping only when it was completely necessary. At one point, the mentor came across a berry bush-blackberries as they turned out to be upon closer inspection. Handfuls they crammed into their mouths, clearing the plant until there was nothing left. The juice stained their hands, purple mixing with dirt. Repulsive. Primitive. Effie struggled to envision what she looked like right now. Quite frankly, she didn't wish to know.

"We must've gone at least twenty miles today," Effie said breathlessly when she and Haymitch finally decided to take a much deserved break. "Surely we are out of harm's way."

Haymitch shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "No one is ever safe, Princess," he muttered, glancing up at the canopy overhead. The trees seemed to be growing taller, the branches much thicker than they were before. They had to be right in the belly of the forest, if not close. "We'll walk a few more miles and then call it a night. It'll be dark soon."

She inhaled, fingers clenched tightly against her palms as she took in his words. Though appearance would lie, Effie was far from being fit. She wasn't used to walking such distances in such conditions. Her feet ached, skin softened from the soaking ground. Right now, nothing seemed more welcoming than a warm fire and perhaps a cup or two of lavender tea. But such luxuries were far gone, replaced with rain water and wild fruits.

"When we get to the ocean, it will be much better," Haymitch said between breaths, his steps becoming limps the further they went. "We can catch things to eat and purify the water. It won't be heaven, but it will sure as hell beat this." He glanced behind him, noticing Effie was slowly beginning to fall behind. "You've gotta move faster than that, Princess. You're just going to make it longer for the both of us."

"I'm going as fast as I can," Effie snapped, yelping when she accidentally made contact with a spider web. "Oh, I despise this. I really, really despise this. We should just turn back. I don't care anymore. Whatever happens to us, let it! I just want to go back!"

Haymitch stopped in his tracks, turning around to face Effie as she stood her ground. If stares could kill, both lives would have been ended instantly. The mentor gritted his teeth together, nodding his head out of anger as if he struggled to process what she had just said.

"And go back to what exactly?" Haymitch inquired, his voice surprisingly cold. "There is nothing to go back to, Effie! Hazelle Hawthorne, Prim Everdeen, Finnick Odair..."

"No," Effie whispered, covering her ears. "Stop it."

"Beetee, Mrs. Everdeen, Gale Hawthorne, Peeta Mellark, Katniss-"

"Stop it!" She shouted, her eyes wild as she gazed at the mentor. "Just stop it!"

"All are dead, Effie," Haymitch shouted over her. "There is no District Thirteen anymore! We can never go back!"

Tears were streaming down the escort's face, smearing dirt and sap. She glared at Haymitch, a look of hatred in her eyes. They weren't dead. They couldn't be. To her, at least, she would refuse to believe it. Despite everything that happened, Effie Trinket was still in denial that this wasn't anything but a dream. A nightmare. That she would wake up, be safe back at her home in the Capitol. That the Quarter Quell never happened. That Peeta and Katniss were both safe and alive.

"Don't touch me," she snapped when Haymitch took a step closer. "Just...just stay back, please...Just leave me alone..."

They went without talking for the rest of the evening, ultimately finding shelter in a brush pile a few miles from where they once were. Dinner went without question that night, neither really having an appetite as they lay down among the old leaves and broken branches. Effie rested her head on her arms, shifting uncomfortably as rock and stick poked and prodded at her body. She hated this silence, possibly more than anything else at the moment. Silence was loneliness. Loneliness was sorrow.

"Why did you save me?" She asked quietly, peering over at the curled up figure off to her side. "Why didn't you just leave me back there and save yourself?"

For a moment, there was no reply. Effie watched, blinking in the darkness, wondering if maybe Haymitch had fallen asleep. It was then, in a very soft whisper, she heard it.

"Because I couldn't let someone else die."

Days turned into weeks as Haymitch and Effie continued through the mountainous regions of what Haymitch assumed might be the outskirts of District Twelve. They ate what they could-usually berries or roots, maybe a squirrel if the former mentor managed to kill one. Starving, thin, their clothes mere rags of what they once were, they pressed on, determined to reach their desired destination.

"My hair looks positively terrible," Effie sighed, peering at her reflection in a small creek they had come across. "I'll never be able to get these tangles out."

Haymitch looked up from his hands, which were currently being used to shovel water into his mouth, and smirked. His own hair had grown unruly-limp and greasy. Now he sported a prominent beard, the scruffiness taking up a good portion of the lower half of his face. It itched, but it was reasonably nice when it was particularly cold outside. Effie often reminded him how he needed to shave, which usually was countered with her need to shower. Crude, but meant to be playful humor. It did, after all, lighten up the somber occasion.

"You could always shave it all off," he suggested, amused when she looked at him with such horror. "Just a suggestion."

"I believe one needs all of their limbs when swimming in the ocean, Haymitch Abernathy," Effie replied, giving him a curt nod. "Be mindful of what you say. I am feeling rather hungry."

"Oh," he grinned. "So we've resorted to cannibalism now?"

The corners of Effie's lips twitched into a thin smile. "Only if you push me."

They continued on, following the stream now as they moved deeper into the woods. The ground was growing more uneven, rocky the further they went. The air was thin, cooler as they day wore on. Winter would be coming soon and with it, temperatures that would be hard to survive in the elements that they were currently in.

"Watch your step," Haymitch warned, frowning when Effie stumbled across some loose rock. "Don't need you falling."

She threw him a look, straightening up with a huff. As her eyes traveled up the slope of earth, she couldn't help but feel a little nerved by how jagged the land had become. Her shoes, though thankfully not the high heels she was so used to wearing-had still worn down into thin versions of the flats they once were. Every step they took, she could feel the sharp stones protruding against the arches of her feet.

They ascended the mountainside, moving much slower than they previously had. Effie eventually resorted to nearly crawling, gripping chunks of grounded rock to keep herself from tumbling over. As they neared a plateau, confidence took over precaution. Haymitch exhaled from in front of her, turning around briefly to offer Effie an almost sly grin.

"We've nearly made it," he said, taking a step towards the base. "We've-"

It was at that moment that the mentor's foot caught on loose pile of debris. He stumbled forward, attempting to catch his balance. Effie was left to watch in horror as he mistook a second step, this time sliding off the edge of the hill. He tumbled merciless, bouncing and rolling over rock and branch until finally coming to a halt several yards below. There, the drunkard lay unmoving, face first in the cold earth. The air left Effie's lungs, a shiver running up her spine as she stood there numbly for a few seconds. When the realization finally hit, panic immediately set in the place of disbelief.

"Haymitch?!" She called out, her voice breaking. "Haymitch?!"

She began to stumble down the rocky surface, nearly having to slide as she went. No, she refused to believe it. She didn't even wish to think it. He was going to be alright. He had to be. The pounding in her chest grew, heart racing violently as she shuffled over to the motionless body on the ground. Her hands quivered, touching his bicep lightly as she looked in desperation at her still partner.

"Haymitch," she whispered, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh...oh..."

Then, though it was very faint, a muffle groan sounded from the reclined figure. Effie inhaled sharply, a swell of joy and relief filling her chest as Haymitch shifted ever so slowly from where he lay. With her help, he managed to roll onto his back, wincing as he peered up at Effie with a weak, but very much smug smile.

"Oh you foolish man," she whispered, wiping away at her tears. "You should have listened to your own advice!"

"Yeah, yeah," he groaned, wincing again as he tried to sit up. "Guess I deserve a good 'I told you so'." Haymitch gave her a weary smile, noting the final droplets of water that slipped down her cheeks. "But I'm _touched_ that it affected you so much."

"Hush," Effie exclaimed. "There's no need to be so rude. Come now, get up. You've put us off of schedule, after all."

The smile faded from Haymitch's face as he glanced down at his leg. Besides a few scratches, he seemed virtually untouched. That was, except for the growing bruise by his ankle. Effie seemed to take notice of it in a matter of seconds, her breath hitching her her throat as she noted how dark it was. She swallowed hard, meeting Haymitch's stare.

"Sure it's nothing more than a sprain," he tried to assure her, struggling to stand up. "Just a bad-shit!" He winced, gritting his teeth together as a hot, white flash of pain shot from the spot when he tried to move it. Broken. Or at least, fractured. Just his damn luck. "I'll be okay."

"No," Effie shook her head, fear masking over her expression. "No, Haymitch, this looks positively terrible!"

"Thanks for the discretion, Princess," he replied, a grimace present on his face. "Just help me up, we need to keep moving. I've dealt with worse."

It took minutes before Haymitch was finally standing once more, most of his weight leaned on his one good leg. They moved slowly, inching towards the cliff side with Haymitch holding onto the escort's arm. He tried to suppress the grunts of pain that threatened to slip from his mouth. Or keep from causing them both to fall over when the muscles in his leg spasmed from the amount of agony they were in. Finally, however, after a few miles, it was Effie who decided to call for the end of today's walk.

"We're stopping," she said suddenly, looking over to meet Haymitch's surprised expression. "You are in no condition to keep going."

"I'm fine," Haymitch insisted, biting the inside of his cheek as another wave of pain shot up his leg. "Just keep walking, dammit. We've put ourselves miles back because of my stupidity. There are a few hours before nightfall, we could-"

"No," Effie said firmly. "We're staying here for the night, Haymitch. It's my turn to make the call."

It would be a little too childish to consider Haymitch sulking as he gave in to Effie's wishes. He merely sat on a log, leg slightly elevated as Effie went about looking for a good sized stick Haymitch had suggested they use to splint his ankle. No matter what, he wanted to be able to walk again when morning came. They couldn't just sit around and wait to be killed. The Capitol was surely searching for them and knowing President Snow, he wouldn't just give up without a fight.

"Here," Effie said gently, causing Haymitch to break from his thoughts. "Drink this."

In her hands, the escort clutched a broken, hollowed out chunk of wood. Inside, there appeared to be a pool of collected water. How old it was and where it came from, Haymitch wasn't sure. But he gratefully took it from the woman, taking a few sips before holding it out to Effie. She shook her head, insisting that she had already had some. Both knew she was lying.

"Some morphling would be damn good right about now," Haymitch said, trying to lighten the tense mood as he and Effie found shelter for the night. "Among other things."

The air had grown even colder out, the wind beginning to pick up as Effie moved closer to Haymitch. Right now, the only thing to keep themselves warm happened to be each other. A few snowflakes fell, melting moments after they hit the surface of the earth. Effie watched them, a feeling of sorrow growing in the pit of her stomach. Beside her, Haymitch's breathing had grown shallow, evidence that he was in real pain, no less.

"They won't come searching in the snow," she whispered, meeting Haymitch's gaze. "We could stay here for a few days. I could find food and water and you could recover. It will be fine..."

"Effie," Haymitch interrupted. "My ankle's broken."

"Well yes," Effie exhaled, rolling her eyes as she leaned in close to his body. "I realize that."

"I'm only going to slow us down."

"Which is why-"

She stopped suddenly, her breath hitching in her throat for a second time that day. Realization hit, understanding of what he was trying to convey. Instantly, Effie began to shake her head violently, the tears threatening to fall as she looked at him so severely. Not now. Not after everything.

"No," she said firmly. "No, I'm not going to leave you! We aren't splitting up!"

"I'm hurt," Haymitch continued. "And it could take weeks before I am remotely the same condition I was before. I'm not going to be much use to you now. If you continue to follow the stream, eventually it will have to meet a river, and all rivers eventually lead into the ocean..."

"Stop," Effie insisted. "Just stop! I'm not leaving you! We're in this together! Until the end! And when you can walk again, I'll be by your side. We go to the ocean as a group or we don't go at all. I can be just as stubborn as you, Haymitch Abernathy!" Tears were streaming down her face. Only this time, she did not bother to wipe them away. "Together."

A moment of silence fell between the two, Haymitch blankly staring out at the falling snow. The tears continued to slip down Effie's cheeks, a mixture of anger and sorrow and fear welling up inside her chest. Finally, the mentor looked away from the impending weather, a pained, but clearly smug expression playing on his lips.

"Hardheaded is a better description," he mumbled, causing Effie to laugh weakly. "My bad habits are growing on you, it seems."

And then, without any sort of initiation, the escort's lips met the victor's. Warmth flooded throughout Effie's body, nerves tingling as her mouth moved against his. A lifetime ago, or so it seemed, she would have never imagined herself in this situation. Sitting in the mud, kissing a man she used to despise. But now, so much had changed. His fingers slid over hers, his other hand calloused and hot against the back of her neck. So long. It had been so long since either had been given just the shortest break from this hell. She allowed her eyes to close, tasting the woods and earth that now was a part of his scent. For the first time in weeks, she felt free.

The next morning, Effie awoke to the sound of absolute silence. She lifted her head slightly, realizing that it had been resting on Haymitch's chest from the previous night. The ground, once a musky brown, was covered in a thin layer of white snow. The air was cold, but Haymitch's body heat had surprisingly been enough to keep her warm.

Pulling her gaze away, her stare fell down to the man laying by her side. Haymitch's face was still, his breathing slow as he slept. Droplets of sweat and rosy blush arose his face. A fever. She tried not to let it worry her, knowing it was only his body responding to the injury in his leg. But she knew, from some informant in the back of her mind, that he'd need to keep hydrated while ill.

Gingerly, she slid away from his body, moving quietly towards the opening of their hideout. Perhaps, if she was fast enough, she could return before he even had a chance to wake up. And maybe, if she were truly miraculous this morning, there would be even a little food to accompany her back.

Hugging herself as she walked, the escort trudged unknowingly through the snow. She exhaled, her breath escaping from her mouth in puffs of white. It was quiet out, the only sounds being from her feet crunching against the ice and the occasional bird calling. After a few minutes, she managed to come across the stream she and Haymitch had been following for the past few weeks. It seemed wider now, perhaps even deeper. Whether this was true or just her imagination, Effie decided not to dwell on it at the moment.

As she bent down to scoop up a small log-ful of water, something in the near distance caught her attention. Not but a few feet away, nestled in the lower branches of a bare tree, a nest sat. Effie's eyes widen, a brief feeling of hope coming to her as she quickly abandoned her post to investigate. It was late in the season, she knew, but perhaps maybe, just maybe, luck would find her even in the deepest wilderness of the world.

Effie's eyes were met by three, perfectly oval, coin sized eggs. Their surface was speckled, brown flecks against olive. Her stomach growled, hunger bubbling up from the pit of her abdomen as she greedily reached towards them to snatch them away. As her fingers barely brushed against the first egg, a shrill cry sounded that caused Effie to stumble back in horror. Her head whipped wildly around, heart racing as she looked for the source. And there, sitting but a tree away, feathers ruffled, was a mockingjay.

For a brief moment, Effie was lost to the memories of the past horrors she had witnessed but weeks ago. Her imprisonment in the Capitol. The bombing of District Thirteen. And Katniss. Katniss who had worked so hard, so diligently through this whole ordeal. Katniss who had been but seventeen years old. Katniss the Mockingjay. The victor. The child. And now, she was nothing more than one of the many numbers lost during the war. She pulled away, escaping her thoughts as she backed up. No. No. She couldn't. The eggs, she just couldn't.

Hunger was lost as Effie wandered back to where Haymitch was, bearing on the little water she could collect. She would refrain from telling him about the mockingjay and its nest. He wouldn't have agreed with her decision to abandon it, even if her reasons for doing so were much deeper than the humanity of leaving the bird her future chicks.

Haymitch was just beginning to stir when Effie reentered their shelter. He looked up at her, expression groggy as he noticed the water in her hands. For once, he allowed her to hold the device as he sipped, feeling a little too weary to do so himself. He exhaled, wincing slightly when he moved his leg in the wrong direction.

"Should've woken me up," he mumbled, scratching at the side of his face. "What time of day is it?"

"Morning," Effie said gently. "And we had a big snow come through last night. But some of it seemed to be melting when I went out. Maybe it will be gone by tomorrow."

"Good," Haymitch exhaled, leaning back on his elbows. "It'll cover up the tracks."

The former escort's gaze scanned the man over, her mouth twitching into a sympathetic frown. "How are you feeling," she inquired, knowing it was a rather ridiculous question.

"Been worse," he shrugged, rubbing at his eyes with one of his hands. "Feel a little warm, but I suppose I should be grateful in this weather." He offered a meek smile when Effie's frown seemed to deepen. "I survived having my abdomen sliced open, Princess," he assured her. "A little fracture isn't going to bring me down. Too stubborn to die." He paused, then added. "Don't worry yourself over me."

Effie offered a small smile in return, knowing it was far from genuine. "How can I not?"

As Effie predicted, the snow had melted by the next day. Haymitch, though still evidently in pain, seemed to be doing much better than before. His fever had broken for the most part, the swelling severe, but nothing the mentor chose to complain about. With much convincing and some promises to go slow, Haymitch convinced Effie that he was well enough to continue on. A day off had put them several miles behind on their plan, something that worried the old victor. But with the past few days' weather being unfavorable, perhaps the Capitol too had held off its search. They could only hope.

Haymitch struggled to keep up as he and Effie moved through the forest. Having nothing more than a crudely put together splint and a walking stick, the mentor had difficulties traveling over the rough mountain terrain. Effie stayed close by him, urging him often to stop and take a break. He'd obey for the most part, his mentality realizing it was for the best. And with the creek, now expanding into a river, the hopes of reaching the ocean soon were high in both parties.

"I haven't really seen the ocean before," Effie said one night, curled close to his side. "I mean, I have from a distance once. When we went on the childrens' Victory Tour. But that wasn't actually being up close to it. I wonder what it's like. From the pictures I've seen, it sure is magnificent. But being so close to be physically there...I cannot help but wonder."

"Big," Haymitch mumbled, yawning as Effie rested her cheek against his shoulder. "And blue..."

He chuckled quietly when Effie swatted at him lightly. "I'm serious," she exclaimed. "Now that we're so close, I can't help but think about it. I mean, surely I'll grow tired of it after we've been sailing on it for a few days. But imagine, Haymitch. Imagine if we came across our own little island. Somewhere where it's always warm and there's plenty of fruit... Perhaps some sort of creature that would have beautiful pelts for clothes. I don't know, the possibilities are endless."

"Yeah," he exhaled, gazing out into the darkness. "Sometimes I find myself wondering too."

A few more weeks they traveled, the snows of winter slowly melting into the earliest blossoms of spring. Food became more available the closer they got to the coast. Berries. Nuts. The occasional small handful of clams from the river banks. Most nights now, they didn't retire to shelter hungry. And as the river grew wider, ever so gently becoming more of a bay, the bond between the two people grew more tight knit. They did, after all, only have each other.

On one particular morning, Haymitch awoke to a particularly odd smell. He sat up slightly, careful not to jostle Effie-who currently used his chest as a pillow-as he gazed up into the beginning glow of the daylight. He sniffed, the air holding a certain aroma he nor Effie had not taken notice of the night before. After a few moments, the realization hit. His heart began to pound, a swell of excitement like a child on their birthday filling his chest. The ocean. It was salt.

"Effie," he said quietly, shaking the woman lightly. "Effie, wake up."

"Mm," she moaned softly, nuzzling her face against his chest. "Haymitch, it can't nearly be morning yet. My mental clock has yet to wake me, you know..."

"I know, I know," he said impatiently. "But we're almost there."

Effie's eyes opened, a look of confusion crossing her features. "Almost..." And it was then, that she noticed it too. The strong, mineral smell that floated through the air, cutting away at the woods and pains. "Oh my," she whispered. "Oh my...how did we not notice this yesterday?"

"I dunno," Haymitch said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. "But it doesn't matter now, come on!"

Despite his limp, the old mentor moved rather quickly through the woods. Effie trailed behind, still recovering from her interrupted sleep. He could smell it stronger now. So close, they were so close to the end of this forsaken place. As Haymitch reached what appeared to be an opening in the trees, something froze him in his tracks. A gun clicked, the nose pressed right against his chest.

"Halt!"

There, dressed in the all too familiar white trooper uniforms, stood at least six Capitol guard. Haymitch faltered, so many emotions flooding over him at once. He turned his head, briefly to look for Effie, but saw she too had been apprehended. Fear masked the escort's face as she looked to Haymitch. And once again, fright was soon replaced by the same vacant expression that was present when he'd first found Effie after her rescue. Hopelessness.

"Well, well, well," one of the guards sneered, pacing around in front of Haymitch and Effie. "What have we here?" He leaned in close, his face inches away from the mentor's. After a moment, his thin lips slowly spread into a grin. "Well if it isn't old Haymitch Abernathy! Why, never knew we'd find you! They've had a bounty on your head for months! Almost thought you'd gone and died in a hole somewhere."

"Glad to know I was missed," Haymitch replied, voice dripping with venomous sarcasm.

"And you," the guard continued. "Who might you be?"

"She's no one," Haymitch answered before the escort had a chance to open her mouth. "We met in the woods."

"I highly doubt that," the guard replied, brushing back a lock of Effie's hair. "You've never seem to be the one to team up with random strangers, Abernathy. I know, I watched your Games too." His gaze swept over the silent woman. "Tell me, what is your name, Dollface?"

When Effie refused to reply, the guardman straightened up. He moved back over to Haymitch, his eyes dark, rage evident in his features. Without warning, he took his foot and slammed it against Haymitch's bad leg. Effie cried out as Haymitch crumpled to the ground, receiving yet another swift quick to nose before he could regain his energy.

"Stop!" Effie screamed, unable to allow Haymitch to take her punish. "Just stop! I'll tell you who I am!"

"Don't," Haymitch gurgled, blood trickling down her nose. "It's...it's going to be okay."

"No," Effie whispered, shaking her head. "It's my turn to make the decision." Slowly, she straightened up. For the first time, a look of confidence came across the escort's expression. Briefly, it reminded Haymitch of the Effie he once knew. The vivacious, strong escort of District Twelve. "My name is Effie Trinket."

Haymitch bowed his head, a sinking feeling in his chest as the guardman whistled in surprise. "Didn't think I'd find both little birdies," he smiled, nodding to the other men. "Get Abernathy up, we need to start moving."

They trudged as a group through the thinning woods. Haymitch licked his lips, tasting the dried blood that had formed over them. Anger. Disappointment. Despair. They had failed. After months of making it on their own, through foodless nights and sleepless days, they had not succeeded. Oh, how he had been so stupid, so careless in thinking they were almost free. Now their fates rested in the hands of their enemies. What would become of them? Prisoners? Avoxes?

"I'm sorry," he muttered softly, hoping Effie would hear him. "I'm so sorry."

They came to an opening in the woods, two guards stepping out first before the other four and prisoners followed. Like some sick, twisted joke, Haymitch's vision was met by the vast water source had had so long been seeking. Waves crumbled onto the shower, birds crying overhead as they dove into the foamy surf. The ocean. They had been so close. So damn close. Someone was laughing and for a moment, Haymitch was unaware that it was himself.

"Shut up," a guard hissed, nudging Haymitch roughly. "You've lost your right to speak."

The head guardsman held up his hand, stopping everyone in their tracks as he looked around. Then, with a nod of his head, Effie and Haymitch found themselves being forced forward. They walked to the edge of the water, standing but a few feet from the actual surface. What was going on? What were they doing? Haymitch looked to Effie briefly, who stared back in uncertainty, before he realized. His stomach sank, nausea rising up in thick bile. He knew their fate now.

"Don't look back," he told Effie. "Watch the water. Just...just look out at the waves."

Behind him, the noises of guns being cocked filled his ears. He could see Effie had visibly stiffened, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She knew now too. Haymitch ground his teeth together, feeling every muscle, every fiber in his body. It was electrifying. A feeling he had never experienced before. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, but he knew running would be pointless.

He could feel Effie beside him, her breathing just audible enough for him to hear. As he peered over at her from the corner of his eye, he noticed how tall she stood. Almost proud. In the face of the end, Effie would not let them belittle her. She had become so strong, so brave. God was he proud of her.

Tuning out the orders of the head guardsman, Haymitch exhaled as he looked into the ocean. It seemed so beautiful and yet, so ominous. He couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like. Effie by his side, the world they knew behind him. Without thinking, he slowly held out his hand towards the escort.

"In the end," he heard her say. "I'm glad I was with you."

Effie didn't even see Haymitch fall before her own bullet embedded itself in her brain. The waves crashed down, hiding the sounds of the popping guns. When they retreated, it was all over. Foam covered the shorelines, the gulls once again squawking as they flew. Life seemed to continue on as it normally did. Nature recovering within seconds after the break. The sun set off in the distance, falling over the horizon behind the sea. And for the first time in their lives, Effie and Haymitch were finally free.


End file.
